


(Untitled) How Does It Feel

by blackbird



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Drinking Games, F/M, Getting Together, Never Have I Ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackbird/pseuds/blackbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Right. Never have I ever gone down on a girl," Lardo says, smirking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Untitled) How Does It Feel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mlle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlle/gifts).



> A 'Swawesome Santa gift for mlle, whose excellent prompt read: "Shitty is, like, legendary when it comes to oral. Right?" 
> 
> Many, many thanks to Schuyler and sunfair for betaing and cheerleading for me, and for running this exchange.
> 
> Title and aural inspiration courtesy of Matt Bomer's cover of "(Untitled) How Does It Feel" from _Magic Mike XXL_.

As the team manager, it is possible that Lardo should have been the voice of reason when, at 1am on the Saturday before finals week, Holster suggests that they play Never Have I Ever. Bitty, who has barely left his new oven unless forced to by class, sleep, or showering, had made a ridiculously amazing baked mac and cheese for the team dinner and that was on top of the pies, cookies, and cupcakes, so she feels like everyone had built up a pretty good base to keep from getting totally schwasted. 

Also, the season is over and Shitty and Jack are leaving in two weeks. Fuck it, she thinks as she climbs up on the counter to pull out her stash of emergency tequila.

"Bring it on, fuckers," she says, dragging Bitty away from the dishes and plopping down on the floor. She leans against the biohazard couch and waits for everyone else. Nursey and Ransom save their game and switch off the TV. Shitty jumps over the back of the couch and slides down to the floor next to her. He's wearing purple boxer briefs and a tank top that she thinks might have been hers once. Or maybe it was his, she had borrowed to paint in, and he took it back. Either way, there's a smear of paint across the faded sunset logo.

His bare knee knocks against hers. "Are you hiding the good stuff from us?" 

"Not all of you," she says, shooting him a bright smile.

Holster comes back from somewhere with two half full bottles of vodka, a handle of rum, and something pink and viscous that someone must have left after the last Haus party. Bitty passes around the little plastic shot glasses that she and Shitty had bought in bulk on their last trip to Costco. Jack comes in last, carrying a bottle of his own. As he walks through the middle of the circle, Shitty snatches it out of his hand.

"Daaaaaaamn, son. Single barrel is the good stuff. Where'd this come from?"

"Someone sent it as congratulations for signing my contract," Jack replies, settling on Bitty's other side. Since the Spring C, she's noticed how Jack makes it a point to sit next to Bitty whenever he can, the little ways he'll touch him when he gets the chance. She wants them both to be happy so much it's killing her, but she and Shitty agreed not to interfere. At least for a little while longer anyway.

"Here's the rules: If you haven't done the thing, you take a shot. Nothing weird, like never have I ever gone to Mars," Holster says.

"Who gets to decide whether something's too weird?" Dex pipes up.

"Lardo, bro, duh," Holster answers, rolling his eyes. "I'll go first - never have I ever shaved my balls."

There's a chorus of groans and Chowder goes a little pale, but everyone takes a shot. Except for Shitty.

"What? I tried it, for like, aerodynamic purposes. Itched like a motherfuck growing back though," he says with a grimace.

"All right, never have I ever been naked in a public place," says Nursey, "and the locker room doesn't count."

There's a moment where everyone is frozen - until Bitty reaches for his glass.

"Wait, how am I the only one that's drinking?"

"You're still our most innocent cherub," Ransom says, reaching over to pinch his cheeks.

"Do that again and no baked goods will cross your lips for a month," Bitty says, smacking his hands away.

The game makes it all the way around the circle and and starts over with Holster's rant about peeing in public and where it was and wasn't appropriate. She's had five shots so far, which isn't bad. Chowder and Bitty are both a little worse for wear, but neither of them look like vomiting is imminent. Jack is also more than a little drunk, judging by how he's allowed Bitty to curl up under his arm and isn't looking freaked out about it. 

Shitty's head is in her lap. There's this one strand that she keeps curling around her pinky over and over to see if it'll stay in a perfect ringlet. Nothing is going to be the same after he leaves. He'd go off to Harvard and meet all these new people and change the world. Not that she doesn't have her own plans to change the world, but doing it as an artist and doing it as a lawyer aren't at all the same thing. (A point that has been made to her on several occasions not by Shitty, but by her father and older brother who are still upset that she has abandoned their plans for her to be pre-law to major in art instead.)

She's brought out of her thoughts by Shitty blowing a raspberry against the inside of her arm. 

"Yo, earth to Lardo. You with us?" He's smiling up at her and maybe she's way more drunk than she thinks because she wants to kiss his dumb face.

"Yeah, sorry. I tuned out when Ransom started talking about the biology of maple syrup or whatever science was happening."

Ranson gasps and clutches at his chest. "Bro, you know how serious I am about my syrup."

"She didn't mean it, Rans, you know that," Holster coos, rubbing his back.  
"It's your turn," Shitty reminds her.

"Right. Never have I ever gone down on a girl," she says, smirking.

"No fair," Bitty whines, letting Jack pour his shot. It's only half full, but no one's going to call them out for cheating just this once. 

However, to everyone's surprise, Dex throws back a shot too.

"Whoa, whoa, William, what are you doing?" Shitty asks, sitting up. "Please, brah, do not tell me you've never - "

Dex is blushing so hard that she thinks maybe steam is going to start coming out of his ears.

"My girlfriend in high school said she didn't like it. She thought it was weird. And I haven't really had much time for dating this year." He rubs the back of his neck. "I don't get what the big deal is anyway."

"Dude, DUDE. The big deal is that going down on a girl is fucking amazing. Like, people with dicks, right - it's all just out there. You can see if they're into you and blowjobs - don't interrupt me, Holster, I remember the story about the girl with the teeth - blowjobs are pretty much a no brainer: hot, wet suction." Shitty's in his element now, eyes shining and gesturing with his empty beer bottle.

"But with a girl, you've gotta do the goddamn work, you know? And when you hit that sweet spot where she's wet and warm and fuck, making these little whimpering noises, and you can slide your fingers inside her and make her feel so fucking good that the muscles in her thighs shake when she comes - that's the shit right there."

It is taking every bit of her not inconsiderable self restraint not to jump Shitty right there because holy mother of God. Looking around, she's glad to find the others are looking as just as astounded at Shitty's rant. She leans over and gently pushes Bitty's mouth closed where it's hanging open.

"So, the point is Dex," Shitty continues, "cunnilingus is a fucking art form and my advice to you is to find a lovely lady who needs her world rocked on a regular basis and practice, practice, practice," Shitty finishes with a flourish, leaning back against the couch. "Of course, you also need to make sure she's cool with that. What's the Haus rule?"

"Explicit and enthusiastic consent," Chowder answers. "Hey, wait. Lardo didn't drink!"

"No, no, I didn't," she says. "Okay, it's after three. Let's clean this crap up and crash." She gathers up the closest empty bottles and heads to the kitchen. A minute later, Bitty stumbles in, Jack following close behind.

"Already did the dishes," Bitty says to her, laying his cheek on her shoulder. "Will you set the coffeemaker?"

"Can do," she says. Jack's smiling softly at them. "Will you make sure he actually gets into bed?"

"One time, Larissa, one time," Bitty says with a giggle, taking the glass of water she hands him. "The floor really isn't that bad."

"C'mon, Bittle, upstairs," Jack says. "You heading back to the dorms?"

She gives him a half shrug, not meeting his eyes.

"Well, I have extra blankets if you need them."

"Thanks, Jack."

She wastes some more time in the kitchen, even making sure all the empties are in the right bags for the redemption center. In the front room, Nursey is already snoring on the biohazard couch and by the door, Dex is putting his shoes on and Chowder's texting.

"You wanna walk back with us, Lardo?"

The _yeah, sure_ is on the tip of her tongue.

"Nah, I'm gonna stay here."

Chowder tilts his head, giving her a careful look before nodding. "Cool."

She locks the front door and turns off the lights before she heads upstairs. It would be fine to bunk with Bitty - it wouldn't be the first time - but she knocks softly on Shitty's door instead. He's ditched the tank top. The amount of times she had seen him in just his underwear are staggering but this time - 

"'sup?"

"Are you cool with sharing? Bitty snores really loudly when he's this schwasted," she asks, barreling past him. There are already a couple of half packed boxes in the corner under the window. Her eyes start to sting and she blames it on all the smoke that must be lingering in the air in here.

"Of course, Lards, you know that. Mi casa es su casa. Shit, like, literally since you're moving in here after…" He turns and digs through his clean laundry basket to find her a shirt. "Here, you can sleep in this if you want."

"Thanks. "I'm just gonna - " she says, nodding toward to the bathroom. 

She gets undressed, shorts and tank top folded on top of the closed toilet seat. Reaching behind, she hesitates for a second, thinking about it, before she unhooks her bra. This is going to be like every other time she and Shitty have passed out in his bed together, right? Right. 

And sleeping in an underwire is uncomfortable as hell. 

When she comes back, Shitty is laying down, scrolling through his phone with a frown. "I should know better than to read Reddit before bed," he scoffs, tossing it onto the beanbag chair with surprising accuracy. "Inside or outside?"

"Inside," she says, climbing over him. He steadies her with his hands on her hips and she definitely feels her breath stutter this time. Because his hands are big and warm and so, so close to where she wants them to be. 

It takes a minute of wiggling and pillow shuffling before they're both lying on their backs, fingers laced, staring up on the ceiling. There are still a couple of pencils embedded up there from the unfortunate homemade blowgun experiment of Spring 2013. 

"Never have I ever made out with my best friend," she whispers into the dark. 

"Lardo - "

"And because she was more like an acquaintance of circumstance, I don't think Shannon from my sculpture class counts," she goes on, trying to sound as casual as possible.

She counts her heartbeats in the silence. Maybe she's gotten this all wrong and Shitty doesn't feel the same way about her. She's had plenty to drink, so she can play it off like a joke and in the morning, they can pretend it never happened.

"Does Jack count?" he asks.

She lets out a breath. "If you were high and kiss-bombed him, then no, probably not."

She turns her head to look at him. He's doing that nose twitching thing that he always does when he's nervous. It makes his 'stache ripple.

"No booze in here," he says, turning onto his side. "What're we gonna do?"

"Kiss me and find out," Lardo answers. "This is me giving very explicit and enthusiastic consent, by the way."

"I don't wanna fuck this up," he says back, looking shy and almost scared. "You're - fuck, you're like, you, you know?"

Lardo scoots as close to him as she can, pressing her toes against his calves. "Yeah, I know," she says, pressing her mouth to his. His moustache is weird, but good weird, and his lips are damp and soft. It's the most right thing she's felt in a really long time.

His hand slips under the too big, borrowed t-shirt and his thumb rubs over the thin skin on her ribcage. She isn't all that ticklish, but the sensation sends sparks up and down her spine. When she drags her fingernails down his chest, he breaks their kiss to gasp.

"Damn," he hisses, flopping onto his back, "you know my nipples are sensitive."

"Yup," she says, doing it again to watch him shudder. 

She's had boyfriends and girlfriends, so she's not new to any of this, but she likes the way Shitty isn't trying to manhandle her. He lets her straddle his hips and hold one of his wrists over his head so she can kiss him and kiss him until the skin around her mouth is stinging. His free hand is on her thigh, fingers tucking into the edge of her underwear. He strokes at the crease there, teasing.

"Mean," she says.

"Payback," he replies. "Can I?"

"Fuck yes, dude," she answers, wiggling back against him as she strips off her shirt. He groans and pushes her over and onto her back. 

He crawls between her knees and runs the tips of his fingers over her. Even with her underwear still on, he must be able to feel how hot and wet she is. He puts gentle pressure on her clit, just enough to make her hips roll. "Damn, Larissa," he says. "I want you so bad, I have for ages."

"Off, off, take them off," she says, shoving her underwear down and almost kicking him in the face in the process. It makes them both laugh and he leans back down to kiss her again.

"No sex bruises, all right? Not yet anyway," he says, mouthing at her neck before kissing and licking a line down her chest and belly. 

All she can think about is what he said earlier about shaky muscles and God, she's already so on edge that she might just go off from the way he's touching alone. His breath is hot and when he licks into her, it's so good and fuck, she not usually this sensitive and she's not even sure what she's saying anymore besides _yes, more, God, yesyesyes_. He pushes two fingers inside her and even though it aches, it doesn't hurt. He does something with them, curves them and presses up and flicks the tip of his tongue over her clit at the same time and she's gone, coming so hard that she's sure everyone else in the Haus must have heard them.

She feels rung out and limp. When she manages to open her eyes, Shitty's curled up, shoulders hunched in, and one hand in his shorts. She knows she should help, but it's fascinating to watch him. Not to mention hot as fuck.

After he finishes, he cleans himself up with his boxer briefs and drops them on the floor.

"Gross," she says as he flops half on top of her.

"But you love me anyway," he mumbles into her shoulder. 

"Yeah, I guess I kinda do," she answers, kicking until she can get the sheet pulled up over them. 

He kisses her shoulder and tugs at her so he's wrapped around her like a weird starfish. "Lards - Larissa. Are we…"

"Yeah, I mean, I'm in if you're in," she says.

"Fuck yeah, of course I am." He digs his fingers into the spot in her side where he does know she's ticklish and she shrieks, smacking his arm. They both freeze when Jack starts banging on the closed bathroom door.

"We're all happy for you, but we're also trying to sleep," he yells.

"Sorry, bro, sorry," Shitty calls as she muffles her laugh in his chest. 

They quiet down, curled up together and as she's falling asleep, she realizes she should probably thank Holster for his dumb game after all.


End file.
